


Like Cats and Dogs

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Series: The Domestic Life Starring Washington, York, North, and the Kids [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguements, Blow Jobs, Chapter 2 is the smut, Crying, Cynophobia | Fear of Dogs, Dogs and Cats, Family, Fear, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Lack of Communication, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, mute character, spoiling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:58:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>York wants a dog, North agrees. Wash doesn't but they get it anyways. Everything quickly falls apart after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step One Was Never To Fuck Things Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thejokeristhethief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejokeristhethief/gifts).



> Ahhhh yes, this wasn't supposed to be sad. Not in the slightest. Until I wrote "dog" and then the plot bunnies mugged me and stole the show. I'm sorry, but this is what happens when you don't have an open line of communication going.  
> Shit gets fucked up.

They had a system here. With people living under one roof there was bound to be messes, loads and loads of messes to sort through, chores to divide up and to do. There was laundry once a week, garbage and recycling to sort through, the dog to walk (and _that_ was a story that Wash wasn’t happy about), dishes to clean and put away, school work to help with, and just over all housekeeping to do. Most of which fell onto Washington to hand out see that he was the adult at home more often than the other two.

Wash mostly handed off chores revolving around Chief (the King Shepherd) to both Theta and Delta; Theta loved him, loved snuggling with him and walking him and just spending all his waking moments with the dog. Delta would teach his tricks and compliment on his even temperament. And it was all well, all good. Wash liked him enough even though for years he had to pay money to see a psychiatrist to help rid him of his fear of dogs—after a Dalmatian had bit his pant leg and started dragging him down the street when he was four.

Wash never _agreed_ to the dog; he was the one that said _no_ but York only heard the excited _yes_ from North. York had quickly informed the rest of the family and afterwards... well, after Epsilon perked up and he _beamed_ at his parental figures, after Theta started cheering and thanking them, and after Delta got that happy gleam in his eyes and the prospect of researching a dog good enough for their family... well, Wash wouldn’t want to ruin that happiness.

It didn’t matter than since the beginning when Wash moved in all he’s been asking for is a cat (a Maine Coon); he had stacks of papers stashed away on the research for the breed, he’s been saving for it since he was ten, he’s been talking to the local breeders and asking about their kittens and their prizes and what that included. It didn’t matter that every time Wash would bring it up he’d get denied; at first there was an explanation, an _excuse_ as to why they couldn’t get it, but now it was just a curt no and he was expected to just return to normal.

Normal being that York’s impulsive want for a dog trumped Wash’s research, his savings from over eleven years ago, and _what he wanted_. It meant nothing; absolutely nothing.

It didn’t matter that Wash liked the dog, he was a sweet dog and he listened like a charm. It was _him sleeping on the bed_ that ruined everything. That made Washington uncomfortable and realize that while all those years of therapy helped him, that didn’t mean that he could have it sleeping near him—when he was open, when he was _weak_. What was worse was that York tended to sleep in the middle, and the dog liked to sleep on him. It’ll start on his feet, and when Wash would wake up Chief’s head would be on York’s chest right by Wash’s face.

He has woken North up out of his dead (and heavy) sleep due to how violently he jerked. He has lost many nights of sleep because of that dog and the fact that it made him uncomfortable. He had even gone and informed his partners that he didn’t like the dog sleeping on the bed and was rewarding with a large pout and an expurgated sigh. It was two against one on the matter again and Chief continued to sleep on the bed with them, and Wash would end up leaving the bed to try to sleep on the couch close to 4AM every morning.

In the morning he was fine; greeting Chief with pets to his head and a hidden treat slipped between his fingers that the dog would pluck carefully from his fingers and wag his tail at. Wash would call him a good boy and remind Epsilon to feed the dog. Theta, Delta and York would walk the dog in the morning before school and work. Then Wash would pile the dishes into the dishwasher and if it was filled he’d turn it on and leave for class. Either Delta or Epsilon would put it away after school before diving into their school work.

It went like normal.

Thursday would be laundry day and all would short their baskets into dark, white and coloured for North to do that night. The man enjoyed folding laundry and no one was going to fight him for that right. Not when Wash stuffs a vacuum in York’s hand and tells him to vacuum the upstairs.

The weekends were when Wash would scrub the ever loving fuck out of the bathtubs, and clean the bathroom. Though, he was happy that he got Epsilon into the habit of cleaning the bathroom whenever he noticed something—a smudge on the mirror, a stain in the toilet, or toothpaste wad in the sink. And Delta was simply neat; he insured that his and Theta’s room was able to see the ground at all times and that’s all North, Wash and York could really ask from two kids.

It was simple; Wash would wake up on the couch when one of the boys would nudge him awake. He’d make sure they got ready for school and ate their food, fed the dog and go over their homework for the second time. He’d go to class and pass his day like normal, he’d return home and work, passing the time with his kids until York and North would come home. They’d do whatever, and bedtime would be spent sleeping as far away from the dog as possible (and in extension North and York). He’d wake up in the dead of night to see that damn dog too close to him and feel himself about to puke, leaving the bed quickly and sleeping on the couch instead.

Epsilon and Delta started asking him questions—where they fighting? Is school getting stressful? Do you want me to do more chores? Epsilon had made him go take a nap of a few occasions; literally dragging him by his hand to his bed and tucking him in. The only thing Wash asked was that they took the dog with them and closed the door behind them.

It went like normal... until Wash brought home the cat.

He couldn’t put up with it anymore. Couldn’t sleep, he hasn’t had sex with his partners for months, the time that he slept in the middle led to him getting his legs trapped under the dog and he started _crying_ and claiming that he woke up to a nightmare (which wasn’t a complete lie) when York kicked the dog off and pulled Wash into his arms. It was the first time since they got Chief that Wash felt like he had his partners back (at least one of them, North was still snoring).

It wasn’t until Wash brought the cat home did the anger finally start to fan out.

 

Wash set the cat carrier on the hip height dresser, wiggling his finger through the bar to coo at the fluffy beastie. He loved him already, ever since he picked up the tiny orange eyed kitten. He had ignored his lovers, his _kids_ when he walked in with the kitten. Ignored the imagined steam threatening to spill out of North’s ears as he walked past him and into the bedroom with his baby.

He _needed_ this cat. Needed it when one of the breeders that he was talking to said that this cat has been having a difficult time and she won’t be able to sell it. All he needed to do was pay for the shots and medication and he was his—Wash agreed in a heartbeat. _He_ needed this cat, but this kitten needed him too.

“You got a _fucking_ cat!” York’s snarl snapped him from his momentary joy, his musing of what to name him and where to set up his litter box and put his food so the dog couldn’t get to it.

“Yes I got my cat. I got my cat with the money I’ve been saving since I was ten—putting aside money for vet bills and food, and just the cat in general. I didn’t spend a dime of any of our _joint_ money, not like what you did for the fucking dog.” He could feel the rage burning, that this was only going to be bad. It would end in someone getting hurt and Wash’s money was on himself.

North sucked in a breath to calm himself, pinching the bridge of his nose when the breath didn’t work. “We said _no_ multiple times, David,” and he was dropping his first name now. “We don’t want a cat, Wash. And we have Chief—”

"I **never** wanted a dog! _I SAID NO TO GETTING A DOG!_ But neither of you _listened!_ ” He screamed throwing his arms out wide, forcing both of his partners to jerk back and away from his sweep. “I've been asking for a cat since I moved in years ago. Researched on both the breeds and the breeders, I've been talking with the people who are selling them— _everything_. But all of a sudden York wants a dog out of the blue without any planning or preparation everyone decides it’s a **fucking fantastic** idea!"

North’s expression softens and he makes to try to gather the younger man to him. “ **Don’t** _touch_ me!” Wash slaps his hand away, wrapping his arms around himself. “Neither of you have cared that I can’t sleep in the bed, or when I ask you to make sure Chief doesn’t sleep in the bed you’d rather the dog than your _own partner_. Never _once_ have either of you bothered to ask why I don’t want him in bed, or why I can’t sleep, or why we haven’t had sex since we got him, or why _I don’t want a dog_ —but you never noticed any of this.”

He sobbing now, rubbing the heel of his palm into one of his eye sockets. “You never asked why so I’ll tell you anyways. I was attacked by a _dog_ when I was four—spent the rest of my life trying to learn how to not be scared of them. My parents spent _thousands of dollars_ on me learning how to stop _fearing them_! Yet, the two people that I love and that claim to love me rather a dog in bed then me—the place that I’m supposed to be safe and comfortable and _loved_ is now the one place I can’t be.”

“Wash,” the gentle, sweet tone is too much for him. Too much after all of it.

“I was never asking for us to get rid of Chief—I _like him_ , I just _can’t_ have him in bed. I can’t. So...” he grabs the cat carrier, ignoring North repeat of his name and leans away from the hand reaching towards him. York had fallen back to sit on the corner of the bed, his eyes tearing up. “My cat and I are going to leave; you need to take care of Epsilon until I find a place suitable for us to live. If... I... Well. The two of you need to figure out if it’s going to be the dog or me in bed with you at the end of the night, ‘cause I _can’t do it_.”

It was the worst feeling in the world, walking away from the master bedroom with a cat carrier. Being welcomed by three teary eyed faces in the living room as Theta started sobbing and begging Wash not to leave. Epsilon nuzzling his face into Wash’s shirt, “take me with you. I want to go with you, please take me with you! Daddy please take me with you!”

Wash shook his head, “sweetheart... Epsilon, I _can’t_. You have school tomorrow and I need to find us somewhere to stay. You need to go to school tomorrow, love. But... but if things look bad and you don’t want to stay here anymore I’ll pick you up tomorrow and you’ll stay with me where ever I find a place.” He pressed a kiss to the kid’s forehead, “I promise I’ll always come back for you. I just can’t have you sleeping in the car tonight; I don’t want you to see me cry, okay?”

Epsilon nodded, “can I call you though?”

“Of course—you and Delta and Theta can call me as much as you want and whenever you like. I love you, love you so much.”

\----------

He turned to the first person he could think of, knocked on his door that night with his damn cat still in its carrier and tears running down his face. He should’ve ignored the mature thing, the proper thing, and brought Epsilon with him. He shouldn’t have listened to the rational part of his brain and left him there.

Maine pulled open his door and took in his tear stricken face, his puffy eyes and the cat in the carrier. His face screamed murder, hands and fingers flying as he quickly signed out **“what did they do?!”** before pulling Wash into the apartment and taking the cat carrier from him and setting it down. He gathered the man in his arms, lifting him up in a hug and held him for what felt like days—days of him just sobbing and whimpering and just making a mess out of Maine’s shirt.

They had grown up together, had been best friends since the dawn of their time—dated for a long time too. Back in the time of high school when things were weird and strangely... well, _alright_ all at the same time. Their friendship only seemed to strength after their mutual agreement of separating, back when Maine joined the army and he didn’t want too... well, they broke up and that’s what mattered in the end. Broke up, remained the closest of friends and would remain like such for the rest of their lives (if they had it their way).

Maine carried him to the couch, leaving him to collect the cat and setting him beside the blond gathering himself on the couch before grabbing Washington’s keys. He started carrying in the cat toys and necessities, setting up the litter box in the spare bedroom and setting up the cat bed right in front of the television in the living room and depositing all the toys on the bed. He set up the kitten’s food and water dish beside the bed, keeping it together for the moment before Wash would (no doubt) transfer it all to the spare room.

He settled back in the couch beside Washington, watching as he slowly pulled the kitten from his carrier and scratching the kitten’s belly. His large orange eyes quietly taking in his environment as he accepted the belly pets; Maine could already tell that this cat was going to become Wash’s pride and joy. He had wanted one since... well, nearly _forever_ in Maine’s eyes. He’d print of a picture of the cat he wanted and tap it to his locker in high school, claiming that he was going to get it—he was getting this damn cat.

**“What happened?”**

Wash sighed, lifting the cat from his lap and into his arms where he began snuggling his face against the fluff. “So... North and York didn’t want me to get my cat,” he started, starting from the beginning and worked his way through it all. The kitten’s tiny paws kneading Wash’s shirt, purring like a miniature motorboat as those orange eyes began to close. “I had to leave Epsilon there—I can’t believe I left Epsilon there— _how_ could I just _leave_ him there?”

**“Do you want me to go get him?”**

Wash stammered sprouting excuses as to _why_ he shouldn’t. _He has school tomorrow_ or _I don’t want to impose more than I already am_ and a list of other things that Maine stopped listening to and instead fished the phone from Wash’s pocket and held it up for the man to unlock. He complied; watching on silently as the man opened up Wash’s contacts, thumbing through the lists before doubling back to York when he couldn’t find Epsilon’s number (there was a **_Emergency Phone 4 Kids_** listed though so the man assumed that the three boys shared it if they every went out to a friend’s house).

He rubbed a large hand over his face trying to ignore the urge to just text very _angry_ and very insulting things at the man—he could do that on his own phone after he got Epsilon, but until then Maine was playing nice. **This is Maine. Wash and Epsilon will be staying with me until he decides what he wants to do. Please have Epsilon begin gathering some clothes and whatever else he sees fit, and please include clothes for Wash as well. He has nothing but what he wore here.**

He set the phone on the coffee table, waiting for the response to come in. He was feeling a little proud of himself—no insult tossed at the man, and he and York never did get along to begin with. He pulled Wash against his side, hugging the man around the shoulders. The blond glared at the phone, waiting to see it vibrate or light up.

It took ten minutes for York’s reply to come in. Another two minutes before Wash reached for it and handed the phone to Maine without even sparing the message a glance. Maine opened it instead; **Oh. OK I’ll tell Eps but I want to talk to Wash tho.**

Maine’s large finger is tapping the letters quickly; **No you aren’t. Talk 2 him another day. Actually think about whats going 2 leave your mouth before saying it for once. Maybe then you wont fuck it up.** Maine pockets Wash’s phone before standing signing that he’ll be back with the man’s son soon.

 

He wasn’t happy, not when he was staring down at the blond haired man who wouldn’t back down after handing him Wash’s bag of clothes. Asking how Wash was doing, if he said anything else—Maine signed a curt **“none of your concern”** that was met with an unnecessary comment from York about how Maine needed to _speak_ so that they could all understand him—Maine _really_ wanted to point to the scars over his throat; to the very _reason_ _why_ he could no longer speak.

His fingers itched to flip him off; knowing that Wash would be furious with him if his kids saw him break all of York’s teeth if he settled with what he _really_ wanted to do. Epsilon wrapped his arms around Maine’s torso, fingers gripping tightly at his shirt. “Can I go see my Dad now? I miss my Dad,” the poor twelve year old sounded heartbroken, his voice catching in his throat without any signs of it being from puberty.

Maine nodded and plucked the kid’s suitcase and school bag from him, adding it to the weight he was already carrying before lifting the kid up with ease. He left without a final pot-shot, without grabbing both men by the scruff of their necks and dragging _them_ home with him to fix the mess that they started—but they needed time. Needed time to cool off and to _think_ of what Wash said, how he phrased it and what it all meant.

Maine left to the quiet sounds of both Theta and Delta bidding Epsilon good-bye, asking him to bring _‘Daddy Wash’_ back home when he comes back, and promising that they’d call once York and North would let them use the phone—after Wash had a moment too _‘gather himself’_.

\-------

Maine started calling him Meta and Wash fell in love with the name. Epsilon well in love with the bundle of fur, the kitten would cuddle in for the night in Wash’s arms and its tiny nose would nudge against his chin—Epsilon had to steal Wash’s phone, taking a picture of it on the first night.

There were a lot of tears shed as the two got themselves and the kitten settled in Maine’s spare bedroom. A lot of hugs to be had as Epsilon asked why Wash had to leave and upon finding out the kid only started crying again. “I didn’t want to make you upset, I’m sorry I wanted the dog—” breath catching, hitching as Wash pulled him in again and petted his hair.

“Eps, sweetheart no. No, no. This has nothing to do with you; you’re not in any way responsible—none of you kids are. Sometimes adults fight and sometimes when they don’t talk about things, important things, those things end up coming to a head and hurting people. Epsilon,” he cupped the kid’s face, kissing his forehead before resting his against Epsilon’s. “None of this is your fault. Don’t let anyone—not a single damn person—tell you otherwise.”

That first day Wash called a few friends that he made in his classes to cover for his notes, briefly explaining that there was a family emergency that he had to see to—they were quick to send him emails with the notes from the three classes he’d be missing that day (the emails were something that helped ease his stress levels).

That first day Theta and Delta still got picked up alongside Epsilon when Wash went to get them. He couldn’t _leave his kids there_ knowing that both York and North wouldn’t get home until six or seven. He had to make sure they ate, did their homework and their nightly routine was still established. Delta _needed_ that routine, it kept him healthy and sane and _happy_. Though, the first day was different than normal. Different in a way that made tears start up anew as Theta clung to him and claimed that he had no homework just so he could keep hugging the man. Even Delta didn’t point out the fact that Theta’s bag weighed nearly as much as the kid; Delta even took a seat next to them on the couch as they watched cartoons, his nose buried in his book.

The first day was the third Friday of the month, typically holding the label for _‘go out and eat as a family’_. Something that Wash didn’t feel comfortable in doing when it was just the boys and him, not even after he send a text to North saying that he’ll drop them off when North gets home, that he won’t feed them just in case they still had plans.

“Can you come home Wash? I promise that Chief will sleep with me; I’ll do my homework tomorrow morning right after breakfast too! Please,” Theta had tugged on his hand when Wash went to drop them off. North pulled open the door just before they started up the main path, York holding Chief back as he barked.

“Go see your Dad, buddy, have a great night and do your homework.” He couldn’t give him the answer that he wanted to hear. Not as his shoulders tensed under Theta’s hold as he hugged the nine year old. That dog’s barking only growing more and more frantic as he was denied being allowed to greet the newcomers. “You know my number and where I’m at, Theta, don’t be afraid to call me anytime. To say hi or anything—I _will_ answer.”

He pressed a kiss to both Theta’s and Delta’s cheeks before leaving, unable to spare a glance at the doorway. He couldn’t risk talking to them here.

The first day ended with Epsilon, Meta, Wash and Maine watching the director’s cut of The Lord of The Rings: The Fellowship with beer bottles and soda cans piling up on the coffee table and two boxes of pizza being spilt. Epsilon loved watching Star Wars with Wash ever since he was a wee young thing and still loved marathon-ing movies with Wash now that he had more choice of series at his finger tips.

The second day was a Saturday mostly spent lazing around; Epsilon finished his homework, Wash did his, Maine played with Meta when he wasn’t trying to catch up on the sleep that pulling nightshifts that week made him lose.

The second day Delta called, talking to both Washington and Epsilon for an hour before bidding farewell when Theta, York and North returned home from grocery shopping.

The third day North called and left a message when Wash stared at the device with a growing panic. _What if this is the end?_ It kept whispering in his head and Wash didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to listen to it as he made a point of _not_ looking for apartments _just in case_.

 **“David, Love... Shaun and I have been talking and... _fuck_ , I wish you’d answer the phone. We made a mistake—we’ve made _a lot_ of mistakes but we’d rather talk about... whatever it is that we can do to ** save this **in person. So, how about that little cafe that you like going to? Valhalla. Maybe... tonight or tomorrow? The boys are old enough to be home by themselves for awhile and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. But, it’s your choice. I would— _we_ would love to hear from you.”**

The third day Wash replied back with a text to both North and York reading: **2night @ 5:30. Don’t look like shit.**

If they were going to _make it up to him_ they better look the part—as much as he loved seeing North in sweats, sweatpants didn’t make for proper dating attire. _He_ was even going to look decent—put together. Like he _didn’t_ spend most of his time curled up in blankets and crying like he got dumped.

_____

“You’re looking good,” York’s smile made his stomach roll, all aflutter with pleasantries. Wash cupped the mug he was greeted with, pleased by the comfortable warmth. He took in the two men seated at the table; North in his deep purple button down shirt rolled up to his elbows, and York still looking the fratboy he once was with his name-branded shirts and washed out jeans.

“This _is_ a date,” Wash arched a brow; it disappeared beneath his wheat blond hair pressed to his forehead from the loose beanie he pulled on. Epsilon called him _very hipster_ , Wash argued that he’d need to wear his glasses and a flannel for that to be the case... so he pulled on a blue and gray flannel but left the glasses in his car.

North sighed; never a good sign and Wash quickly steeled himself for the worst—what could _maybe_ happen. “We now you’re not coming home tonight, but I’m hoping that maybe once this is finished you might consider returning this week.”

“Way to just lay it on slick, I thought _you_ said to start with the apologies and the begging before asking him to come home!” York hissed, punching the older blond’s arm before returning his attention to Wash. “Babe, baby—love of my life, I swear.” His smile slipped from his lips as he held his hands palm up on the table. He waited for Wash to make the decision on if he wanted to take his hands instead of taking them like he normally did.

Wash gave him _one_. Ignoring the quick tempo his heart took when York’s calloused and _warm_ hands encompassed his. “I’m keeping Meta—I’m keeping my cat.”

York shook his head, “buy another one—get _seven_ , fuck. I don’t care. If its something thing that helps you, if it’s something that doesn’t make you _fear sleeping_ get an army of them. We can get rid of Chief—Connie said she’d take him, or South. South agreed, said that Kai loves big dogs. Or Carolina, she agreed already to take him. She’s been meaning to look for another one.”

Wash cut him off, “Its... we’ll see about just getting him to sleep with Theta—”

North leaned in, weaving his fingers together on the tabletop. “He’s been sleeping with Theta for the last couple of days. We’ve changed the sheets and made sure they don’t smell like dog either. We just want you to feel safe and comfortable in _your_ house too, we haven’t done a good enough job of it for the last five months. It’s unacceptable of us to make you live through that; it’s unacceptable of us not to put together the obvious clues, and to make you feel like you needed to stay silent about it.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Wash... we want you to talk to us; we want you to feel like you _can_ talk to us again. And for us to have done that—I...” he grasped at syllables, at sounds rather than words as he stumbled and stuttered to find the proper working.

York’s hold tightened around his hand, “we love you. We love you so _fucking_ much David that some days—well, for me, some days I just have to just sit back and think _‘what the fuck did I do **right** ’_ to get someone as fucking great as you. I mean, well, North is _ehhh_ —”

“Shaun.”

“—but _you_. Well _fuck_ ; you’re a league of your own!” That made him smile, made him chuckle and release his hold of his mug to pull York into an embrace.

“You have a lot to work on,” Wash whispered, burying his face into the junction of his neck as York released his hands and returned the hug properly. Wash clutched at the man’s sand coloured shirt, taking in his lover’s smell that he couldn’t help but miss the last few days.

“I know, baby, fuck I know. I’ll start right now if I could; this is a date after all. What better way to start kissing up and making up then on a date?” Despite the light humor, the hint of a chuckle in his breath, the man’s hold of Wash spoke of the depth of his concern—his concern and _need_ to fix this. To make it better and to bring Wash home again.

Wash pulled away, accepting the slight kiss against his cheek as he returned to his seat. He held out his hand to North to take, smiling at the older blond when he took it without hesitation. “I could go for a cinnamon bun,” Wash smiled, patting his eyes at York until the man sighed and left to go get one.

“Please don’t get seven cats; we won’t have room for seven plus the six of us. Though I think three would be enough,” North’s subtle hint of panic brought that smile on Wash’s lips even wider.

“Meta is enough—though, Epsilon has now gotten it in his head that he wants a finch. I was thinking of starting him with a fish though instead to make sure that he can keep that alive before giving in and buying him a bird.”


	2. Step Two was Always to Make Up Though

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, I feel like digging a hole and dying in it. I'm not feeling so happy and I don't know when that will change. But, here have some norkington before I decide to make it really angsty again.
> 
> Next thing I want to do with this is really fluffy but i'm not in the mindset to do it. Hint: Delta will have a big spot in it.

Washington moved back in four days later with Meta and Epsilon in tow. The twenty-two year old set the cat carrier up beside the litter box (with the lid) on the main floor at the very end of the hall beside the bathroom. It tucked nicely into the corner and seeing that the main bathroom was the only door along that wall it was safe to set up the kitten’s litter box there until Wash could move it downstairs when he was sure it could make it all the way down there.

The children took to the cat with ease, petting and cooing at the kitten. Delta even set him onto his lap while he’d watch television with the family, slowly stroking the feline. Even Chief didn’t seem to mind the even tempered kitten, the dog snuffling at it until he broke into a sneezing fit when the fur began to tickle his nose.

The household returned to normal—their routine returning. Working on their homework at the table, now with Chief laying under the table and Meta sleeping on Wash’s lap as he worked, going until either finished or North returned from work. They’d have dinner ready, or nearly finished, by the time York walked in to rain kisses to both his lovers’ cheeks.

It returned to normal with Theta taking the dog to bed with him and Meta curling into Washington’s arms as he’d tuck himself into York’s side, his head comfortably pillowed by the man’s shoulder as North’s snores quickly filled the room.

\--

It was a long weekend for the children that week. Their school calling for their PD Day that Monday—it made for the best opportunity to spoil Washington. To finally go about making it up to him after being pieces of shit for months. Both Theta and Epsilon were quick to fill their long weekend with their friends. Theta was going out to one of his friend’s cottages and Epsilon claimed to be visiting Jeremy’s house Saturday and Sunday only to grow flustered when Wash asked about what he was doing on Monday.

York took a seat at the edge of his nephew’s bed, his smile soft as he ran a finger up the underside of the eleven year old’s foot. “So D,” he sighed gathering the child’s attention away from the romance novels that he mother sends him all the time—the pair had a love for the books and while York thought it was above his age he wasn’t about to take the novels away that his sister would gift her son. “I’m gonna have to ask you to chill out with some friends or something this weekend.”

The brown haired kid blinked his emerald green eyes, “you’re going to be having sex and you don’t want me here.” York coughed, ears tinting pink. Delta nodded, “I can arrange something. Maybe call grandmother or possibly Carolina. She said that she was able to read some of the books I lent to her, I would like to talk to her about them.” He mused it over, returning his bookmark to his book before sliding from his bed.

He slipped off the bed with ease, leaving his large book by his pillow as he padded towards the door. He paused; hand lingering over the handle to pull the door open and turned to his uncle. “You’ll make sure to patch things up with Da— _David_ , right? He won’t leave us again?”

York caught the stumble as he nearly referred to Wash as his Dad, like both Theta and Epsilon did. York had always just been Delta’s uncle. Always Uncle York or simply York, never Dad or Pops or Father—not even Fatherly figure. North got that last title.

But, Wash was the one that was home with them all the time—sorted out chores and helped with homework, he was the one that picked them up after school and typically woke up with them in the mornings, was the one to oversee them pack their lunches and eating breakfast along with making them dinner at time. It made sense for the youngest man to be that ‘Dad’ figure that they clung to. He was the one that was there all the time. York couldn’t feel jealous, Theta called him Dad or Pops sometimes too. Typically when he was sick or if he wanted something, and it just made York feel _old_ being referred to as a parent.

“That’s what North and I are trying to make sure never happens again.”

\--

Washington slept in that Saturday, wrapped up in the duvet and sheets; he slept until the house grew silent. York had taken both Chief and Delta to Carolina’s for the long weekend, the woman laughing at him as he slipped back out the door.

Washington slept until North and York curled beside him. Their fingers tugging at his hair, their lips pressing butterfly kisses to his bare shoulders, up the back of his neck until he rouse from his slumber with a sleepy mumble and a groan when North stole a kiss. “Good afternoon,” the older blond smiled, pinching his chin between thumb and finger.

Wash grunted, turning onto his side then up onto his elbow to look at the alarm clock. “Shit,” he sighed and flopped back into the comfort of their bed. Moaning when York’s hands slipped under the hem of his boxers and began to massage his ass cheeks, pushing the fabric down as far as the brunet could in their current position. North pulled back the duvet, throwing it to the foot of the bed and exposing the three men to the slight chill in the air. Pulling the youngest man into a kiss, he shared a look with his brown haired lover before sliding his eyes closed and falling into kissing Washington.

York rolled away with ease, rooting through the night table for the bottle of lube they stashed there (well, in both of them). He slipped back in behind his young lover slicking up his fingers and slipping a finger between his cheeks. “This whole weekend is just going to be about you,” he whispered, circling his middle finger around Washington’s hole. Teasing the sensitive nerves until the man was shivering and pulling away from North’s lips to throw a wide eyed stare at him over his shoulder. “Sex, your favourite meals, watching movies in bed,” he continued, slipping his teasing finger in.

Slipping the digit in with ease before forming a rhythm of thrusting in and out, slow and testing just teasing at York’s own patience—reminding himself that he wasn’t going to reach his own release today. North petting the freckled man’s cheek, pushing his hair back from his face as Wash shivered and groaned under the slow teasing pace. His fingers digging into North’s sweat pant covered hips, slipping down to cup his bulge only for his hips to jerk away and his wrist to be pulled up to the man’s chest. “None of that Love, this is all you. Just worry about enjoying yourself,” he hummed, pecking the man’s nose.

“But—” he moaned, eyes clenching shut as York thrust another finger quickly within him. It assaulted his system with a mixture of pleasure and _confusion_ —it’s been too long since he’s had something within him, stretching his hole open.

“No buts baby,” York purred, scissoring his fingers and chuckling at the cry he pulled from Washington. “Just you and our fingers in your ass. Stretching you open, massaging your prostate. We’ll take such good care of you. Make you cum, make you forget your own name.” He pressed against at bundle of nerves within him, caressing it as Wash jerked and moaned—crying out wordlessly as he continued. Over and over, over and over again York rubbed two fingers into the gland.

Washington bucked back, impaling himself further onto those digits. Neck exposed as he tossed his head back, “more. _More_.” He whimpered, panting as North sucked marks into exposed the freckled column. North bit, sucked, licked and kiss every inch of skin he could get a hold of. Wash whined, “Shaun, Alex stop being teases— _fuck me_. Fuck me hard,” he jerked his hips back before grinding forwards against North’s cotton pants.

They did nothing of the sort. North wrapped a hand around Wash’s cock and jerked him off. Pulling broken off cries of pleasure from his lips as the man’s hips buckled, spasming between wishing to push into the blond’s hand and back onto the brunet’s fingers. They drew it out, pulling away when the man was close to cumming; fingers slipping out to tease his rim while the hand around Washington’s disappeared.

They drew it out until the man’s cries grew desperate; shoulder’s shaking from the tension building up in him. His eyes watering, “please. Please, _please_.” He could only beg after that hour of his drawn out pleasure. It was the only word he knew at the moment— _please_. He didn’t know what he begged for until they gave him his release.

Cumming in long thick spurts, Wash whimpered, falling limp between the two older men. Groaning, this time in complaint, as they moved him to clean his seed from skin with a moist cloth they set aside before waking him. He threw an arm around York’s shoulders, hugging the man as he nuzzled into his neck. “Think you’re ready for round two?” he teased, kissing at the skin ghosting against his lips.

The second round is nearly the exact same thing except North’s fingers are pushing in and Wash ruts against the mattress as York keeps his hands pinned. It’s nothing but more teasing, drawing out his pleasure for too long—it wasn’t _fair_. He made his displeasure known by cumming all over the sheets, falling limp in his mess and pouting as his lovers pawed at him. North scooping the younger man into his arms and carried him to the master bathroom for a relaxing bath—bubbles were to be had—as York stripped the bed and only redressed it again.

They took their time washing him, their tub too small to fit all three of them comfortably though it didn’t stop them from piling in all the same. Washington took to dozing with his head tucked in the junction of North’s neck and shoulder, humming when they’d run the cloth over his body. Puckering his lips when they’d press kisses to it.

They spent the rest of the day tucked into bed with a mountain of pillows supporting their backs as they watched movie after movie, after movie after movie on their television. Curled together in nothing but their underwear the three men bathed in their lovers’ company. They broke for meals, for bathroom breaks and to answer their phones when Theta and Epsilon called to check in—in Epsilon’s case he begged Wash to let him spend Monday at his girlfriend’s house and Wash had to phone Beta’s mother to make sure the woman was alright with it. Turns out that Beta had invited a few other people over as well, an even mixture of both boys and girls, to ensure that the woman would allow Epsilon over.

Children were clever.

\--

He worried his lip between his teeth, catching the moans that threatened to escape as the other man moaned freely and plunged his tongue further into his hole. On the second day it was all about pleasing Washington with their mouths. He had awoken to York’s sinful mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, slurping it down like a delicious treat. Bobbing and sucking, tonguing and dragging his teeth _just so_ up the shaft—fuck he didn’t last long after that.

He wasn’t going to last long now either, not when North kept lapping long hard licks into him. Shaking his head, left to right, and flicking his tongue against the sensitive rim. “Feel good?” York’s voice like silk in his ear as he purred, nipping at the pierced lobe. “Do you like it when he eats you out? Tongue flicking and pressing in, stretching you open but it’s just _not good enough_. You need a cock in you don’t you?”

Wash nods with a pitiful whimper. His gray-blue eyes fluttering open to get an eyeful of the bright purple vibrator York was showing him. He keened, hips jerking when his blond haired lover pulled away and the slicked up vibrator took his place. The vibrations slow as the pair pinned his hips down, lips and teeth and tongue exploring the freckled skin stretched over his back.

“Tomorrow we’ll make you feel even better,” North promised, breath puffing out along his spine as he thrust the bright purple cock in and out of his spit and lube slicked hole. Upping the vibrations until Wash screamed, until he cried and pleaded for them to let him cum. “We can take you one after the other, or at the same time—or you can fuck _us_.”

“You’ll like that, North’ll let you fuck him—full him up real good.” York purred in the younger man’s ear, continuing with his lewd promises. He was rewarded with another whimper, another moan as Wash tilted his hips up into the next drag of the cock. York grinned at North, licking his lips with scarcely controlled lust. He wanted him, he wanted Washington so bad that he cock hurt—both he and North have been denying themselves their release until Monday, until _they_ felt like they deserved the release.

After all the trouble that their actions caused, after the heartache and the trust they’d be re-establishing... a few days of orgasm denial was nothing. Not when, if it all went correctly, they’d be rewarded with a release the next day.

Washington shook, hips twitching as he rubbed and bucked his hips into the covers. Moans muffled by the pillow he had firmly clenched in his teeth. “Ahhh _hhh!_ ” He cried cumming with a full body shutter. His hips twitching as the vibrations continued to assault him; fingers clenched in the blankets as his lovers switched to caring for him in a different sense.

They would eventually migrate to the living room where York would play Until Dawn and Wash would get another reading in. North silently watching the brunette as he plays, head pillowed by the other blond’s lap. They’d break for lunch then again for dinner—most likely leading to York dropping to his knees and taking Wash’s cock in mouth.

But that was not now, now Wash lay tucked into North’s arm as he regained his breath. Humming as York pressed butterfly kisses up the man’s nape, over his ear then down his jaw. Now was spent just enjoying the moment of silence before movement that was bound to follow.

\--

The Monday started with a nice breakfast in bed. A collection of fruit and a yogurt parfait and a bagel with cream cheese—of course it wasn’t safe from his lovers as they stole his fruit and chewed it proudly in front of him. All large beaming grins and wrinkles around the eyes.

The Monday would lead to sex, eventually, something that both older men were looking forwards too. To release the build up tension.

But, of course, _something_ had to happen to stall the events.

 _Fuck North_ they said, _it’ll be great_ they said. And by ‘ _they’_ Washington means it’s completely on York’s shoulders as Wash is whispering soothing words to his eldest lover. North’s ass was _tight_ , tighter than expected even after the thorough foreplay and stretching Washington began with. It was tight enough to _hurt_ and Wash’s forehead thumped against the man’s back.

“This isn’t going to work,” Wash hissed between his teeth as he slid his length (whatever he was able to _fit_ ) out of his lover. He flops onto his back beside North, sighing when the man’s ice blue eyes meet his. “You don’t need to _force yourself_ to do anything you don’t feel comfortable North. I know you guys want me to feel good and it’s supposed to be _‘all about Wash’_ ,” he quotes them, voice altering to mimic York’s tone. “Just because you and I have never gotten to switch things up doesn’t mean that you need to force yourself to do it _now_. If it happens it happens.”

North’s lips purse, “I apologize.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustrations. “I want to—I do, I _swear_. I...” he sighed, “I don’t understand.”

Washington seals their lips together, swallowing down whatever else the man would like to say. Slipping a tongue past his teeth, sliding their saliva slicked muscles together, Washington pulled a soft groan from his partner before pulling away. “York mentioned both of you taking me,” he finds the brunet quickly as he’s still fighting the losing fight with his clothes. “I can go for some DP if York can actually get _out_ of his clothes—you know you’re supposed to _shed_ those to get naked, not put them on.”

The snark comes easy—like breathing. It was a part of Washington just as much as his blond hair or vast collection of freckles adorning his person.

“Oh shut up, Davie. Stop being a little shit and _help me_!”

**Author's Note:**

> York and North need to do a lot of ass kissing.  
> [may be continued in a second chapter but if not it'll be in the next part]


End file.
